“And love isn’t something that weak people do. Being a romantic takes a hell lot of hope”
Hot Priest (Fleabag S2E6)
Love and I have a bitter-sweet relationship. On some days it’s my greatest companion, cheering me on as I make my way through the complicated maze of life. On the other days, it’s my biggest nemesis — giving me an existential crisis as I toss and turn in my bed. On most of the days, though, it’s just there — not letting go of me even after we have sparred all night. It sits and watches me breakdown — not judging or rolling its eyes in an “I-told-you so”. It gives me space to grieve but it never leaves.
It is because of this relationship with Love that I like to call myself a hopeless romantic. I have tried being a part of the swiping, serial dating, hooking up millennial/Gen-Z crowd but it’s just not my thing. Most of the times my escapades with tinder matches have ended as an awkward mess and hence I am fully content in the realization that it won’t work for me. What I really, truly, absolutely want to work for me, though, is Love. I want Love to embrace me and accept my demands — I just want someone to write me poems and letters and buy me flowers and hold my hand as we cross roads and tell me how much I mean to them every single day. That is not too much to ask for, is it?
In my quest to find someone who ticks all the boxes, I have met a number of men — men I have hated, men I have loved, men I have loved to hate and men I have hated to love. It’s been such a ride. I don’t have a lot of regrets, if I am being honest. But I do have some regrets — enough to have a “blogging era” as one friend very rightly described. This blog won’t be about being petty and dissing these men. (Although that does sound tempting.) That’s not the agenda right now. This blog is about me — my growth and my journey through all of it.
Having a quarter life crisis is very real. I see people around me getting hitched, having dream honeymoons and settling down as I struggle to go on a single decent date and I think to myself if I am actually doing this right. And while I tell myself continuously that everything is going to happen in its own time and I shouldn’t let what I see on social media make me insecure, the fear of being lonely and unloved claws at my heart, every now and then. So this blog is an attempt to face my fears instead of running from them. It’s an attempt to dare for a happier future even as I ponder on lessons from the past.
If you’re reading this, I welcome you with all my heart. There’s going to be some self deprecating humour as I cope with my insecurities, there’s going to be some positivity, a dash of hope and of course a ton of vulnerability. Most importantly, this is going to be An Ode to Love — my Ode to Love.
Or as Fleabag puts it -
